


Always the Bridesmaid

by freudensteins_monster



Series: March Prompt Meme [6]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 19:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: anonymous  asked: 27 dresses logyn





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t seen the movie, but based off what I know of the trailer an idea started forming in my head. Hope it’s okay.

Over the years Sigyn had been a member of the wedding party in no less than a dozen ceremonies. Aside from all her mother’s marriages, which tended to blur into one giant mistake, Sigyn had been a bridesmaid for each of her five older siblings, and each time the happy couple said their wedding vows Sigyn felt a jolt of excitement course through her – it was that much closer to her turn to get married, and she knew exactly who she wanted to ask her; Theoric Ulrikson. Theoric was a handsome soldier from a good family who had recently been promoted into the ranks of Allfather’s Crimson Hawks. After such a boon to his professional life, he must surely be on the lookout for a wife to build a home for him, and every time he came into her father’s armoury Sigyn felt herself blush when he smiled at her and couldn’t help but wonder if today would be the day…

It had been a month since her older sister Dagmara’s wedding and Sigyn was growing impatient with Theoric – he hadn’t even asked her to take a walk with him, let alone speak with her father. To make matter’s worse, the Crimson Hawk hadn’t been into the armoury all week and her father was pressuring her to take an order to the palace.

“I can’t leave,” Sigyn whined. “What if he comes in while I’m gone?”

“Then it’ll be his bad luck,” her father grumbled, shoving a parcel into Sigyn’s arms. “Now, take these to the palace. Give it to no one but the queen herself, I need to know she’s happy with the craftsmanship. If not, I’ll redo it at half the price, but don’t tell her that unless she’s truly unhappy with them,” he added, patting the parcel and pushing his daughter out the door.

Sigyn practically ran to the palace in the hopes she could return within the hour, but when she was redirected to a sitting room and the minutes started to tick by her hopes began to flicker and wane. After what seemed like an age one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting appeared and invited her into the parlour. All Sigyn’s irritation evaporated when the golden queen smiled at her.

“Sigyn, so nice to finally meet you,” she greeted warmly, ushering the flustered girl in.

Sigyn struggled awkwardly as she tried to curtsey and hand the queen the parcel at the same time before attempting one and then the other. The queen smiled and stifled a chuckle at Sigyn’s nervousness, directing the girl to sit down across a small table from her as she opened the parcel.

“Oh, yes,” the queen beamed as she inspected the metal vambraces. “My son will love these.”

“My father will be glad to hear it,” Sigyn replied, finding her voice.

“I doubt he needs to be assured of the quality of his work,” the queen teased. “The only thing he shows more pride in his daughters.”

“Oh,” Sigyn blushed. “I hadn’t realised that you were so well acquainted with my father that he’d had the opportunity to talk your ear off about us.”

“I seek him out from time to time for custom orders when I struggle to find something worthy of a name day gift for my own children. He speaks of you quite highly,” she smiled. “And he mentioned the last time that we spoke that you were in need of a tutor.”

“A tutor?” Sigyn stammered.

“Yes, a seiðr tutor. He claims you have some natural ability, but without training he fears you may become a danger to yourself, and others,” the queen explained calmly.

“He exaggerates,” Sigyn dismissed quickly, averting her gaze.

“So the incident with your mother’s third husband was exaggerated? The man still cannot speak without half his words turning into toads. Your father also mentioned an incident involving one of his suppliers.”

“His cart was already on fire when I got there!” Sigyn snapped, blushing furiously. In truth both men were less than honourably and Sigyn had instinctively defended herself.

“I very much doubt that, Sigyn,” the queen replied calmly, taking the girls hand in hers. “I know such accidents might make you fear your gifts and want to repress them, ignore them…”

“That is exactly what I wish,” Sigyn muttered to herself.

“But what happens when you lose your temper at someone you actually care for?” the queen countered quietly, watching as Sigyn relented with a sigh.

“I… I require training,” she admitted softly, earning a kind smile from her queen.

“Very well, I shall find you the finest tutor,” she promised. “Return here in a weeks’ time for your first lesson.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Sigyn replied automatically before excusing herself and walking home in a daze.

The bell above the shop door woke Sigyn from her musings, enough for her to realise that something was amiss.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded of the blonde behind the counter, who offered her a syrupy smile in return.

“Good to see you too, sis,” Sigyn’s younger sister Livvy shot back.

“What are you doing here?” Sigyn repeated testily. “I thought you were staying with mother until the end of the summer?”

“Father sent for me. He said you would be too busy with seidr training to man the shop. Good for you, sis. Finally getting your weirdness under control.”

“He what?” Sigyn spat ignoring her sister’s barb, turning on her father as he stepped in from his forge. “You planned all of this?” Sigyn demanded.

“Aye,” her father replied after a moment’s hesitation. “Livvy needs to be doing something more productive than lounging about on some beach on Alfheim, and you need training.”

“I do not!” Sigyn shouted back, stomping off to her room, the whole building shaking with every step.

“Yes, you bloody do!” her father called up the stairs. “And if you bring this house down upon my head you’ll just be proving my point!”

The rest of the week was tense. Livvy would try to goad Sigyn into an argument, Ivaldi would scold her, and Sigyn would ignore them both in favour of quietly fuming.

Sigyn stomped down the stairs, fussing over her cleanest work dress in preparation of her first lesson, but almost missed the last step when she realised there was someone waiting in the armoury.

“Theoric!” Sigyn exclaimed, quickly righting herself. “So nice to see you again.”

“And you, Sigyn,” Theoric smiled. “I was wondering…”

“Yes,” Sigyn murmured, hoping against hope that today was finally the today.

“Would Livvy be at home?”

“Livvy?” Sigyn replied numbly.

The next hour was a blur. She vaguely recalled Livvy skipping out of the shop on Theoric’s arm and her father begging her to go to her lesson before she had another episode. She couldn’t remember walking to the palace or being shown to a small classroom. She blinked away her tears and began pacing around a table in the centre of the room.

Theoric must have come to the shop whilst she was at the palace last week, that’s when Livvy made her move. Now that she thought about it, Livvy had been taking long trips to the market with alarming frequency over the past week, no doubt an excuse to _accidently_ bump into Theoric. And in no time at all Theoric would proposing to _Livvy_. And their mother would approve of it despite Sigyn being as yet unmarried. Unmarried, Sigyn thought in horror. People would start to suspect there was something amiss with her. And there was, she fumed. What upstanding man wanted a wife who magically set things on fire when she was mad? She was a freak and no one was every going to marry her and she was going to be alone forever and –

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Sigyn screamed and everything in the room was smashed against the walls in the wake of Sigyn’s rage.

Sigyn panted for breath, looking around at the destruction she’d wrought in shock, wondering if it was possible to be kicked out of class before it had even started.

“Ow…” a muffled voice groaned.

Sigyn gasped as she spotted a pair of leather-clad legs sticking out from underneath the overturned table.

“Oh no!” she cried, rushing to her tutors side to help lever the heavy table off of him. “I am so sorry!” she apologized, only to triple her efforts when she realised that the man under the table, her would-be tutor, was none other than Prince Loki.

“Well, that was…” the prince huffed as he struggled to his feet, gazing about the mess around them before his green eyes settled on his embarrassed protégé. “Impressive.”


End file.
